


Red Resolution

by taichara



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Learning to fight takes a few different steps in the process, and Lissa is not backing down from any of them.





	Red Resolution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroberuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroberuka/gifts).



She would never admit it, but -- right that moment, standing in the makeshift training ring in the middle of the bivouac, Libra watching calmly some distance away, his own weapon grounded -- Lissa couldn't shake the feeling this was maaaaybe not the greatest idea in the world. Just for a moment. 

Everyone was entitled to a flicker of self-doubt, right? Even her sister. So, why not her?

_... And if I can do that, then I can do this. Simple! Just watch me!_

\-- That was all it took to light the fire again. Lissa's grip tightened on the practice hatchet and she flung herself across the muddy circle at the hapless dummy of straw and burlap, peppering it with blows maybe more enthusiastic than accurately placed. 

Well, it _was_ her first training session, right? She could work on the fine details. The _important_ part was that she'd made up her mind.

The army needed everyone it could get, and it was going to get _her_.

-*-

_This isn't bad at all -- just look at me go! I'm gonna be ready in no time!_

War waited for no one, which meant grabbing moments of training in whatever opportunities (usually in camp) that Lissa could manage while still keeping up her normal clerical duties. It was frustrating -- which meant more pranking, because distractions were needed all around -- but there wasn't much she could actually do about it ... except for now.

Now she was ready to work with live weapons.

The dummies -- stuffed with scrap wood inside their straw insides, now -- made satisfying thunking noises when she buried her shiny new axe in them, or wobbled and toppled when she lined up a hatchet and sent it flying; it was a _definite_ improvement over wild flailing, Naga be praised. Of course, Lissa wasn't about to admit to that, either. No one needed to know that bit. They didn't need to know she found the shorter skirting kinda breezy either, but she could work with that too. 

Just a few more days, a week maybe, and then --

"Do you think that you're ready?"

"Do I ever!"

-*-

Warfare did care about the weather, either -- it was cold, and wet, and threatening thunder when the scouts came back: the enemy was on the move and closing fast, and Ylisse's people barely had time to gather themselves up and gird for the inevitable battle before the waves of bodies crashed into their ranks like a tsunami.

_Naga help me, this is crazy --!_

Crazy, and chaotic, and hellish. Lissa waded into the scrum within moments of the first skirmish -- her hatchets already flown, there was nothing for it but to get in there and make it count. Everyone was counting on her, after all, just like she counted on them.

A blade jabbed out of nowhere -- somewhere out of the mass of screaming, cursing bodies -- and she felt a searing jolt before bringing her axe down to bat the sword away from tender flesh, skidding down the cage of her skirting. Blood; yes, she'd been grazed, but it was _just_ a graze. She could still fight. She gulped a few deep breaths --

_It's been worse, c'mon Lissa, don't run away now!_

\-- and then the swordsman was trampled into the mud by Ylissean cavalry (she couldn't tell who) and there was no more getting distracted. Distraction in the thick of combat meant her death instead of someone else's and she _not_ ready to die just yet, thank you _very_ much --

A flash of steel drew her eye. A spearman, lunging towards -- that was Chrom, wasn't it, oh _gods_ no -- he was fighting down another knight and didn't see --

_Not gonna happen!_

The world went red. With a roar of fury Lissa lunged, axe high; brought it down in a murderous arc that cleaved first through the fast-closing spear shaft and then through its wielder, slicing them clean in twain.

And then the world was _truly_ washed with red and Lissa's thoughts blanked.

She'd killed another person. That was their blood all over her axe, over _her_ , splattered over the startled Chrom now pushing free of his assailant's toppling body, closing the distance, concerned --

"Lissa? Are you okay?"

He was still there. The bastard spearman never _touched_ him and and it was because of _her_.

She re-set her grip, gave her brother her best stubborn, flinty smile.

"I'm going to be fine. Just you watch."

Oh yeah. She could _do this_. For her brother. For Ylisse. For herself.

And they were going to _win_ this.


End file.
